


Mystic Messenger

by yaboi_deicide



Series: a numbing pain [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe, Angel Wings, Angels, Body Horror, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Identity Reveal, Kinda, Minor Violence, Other, Post-Canon, its not really important, sorta - Freeform, the f/m tag is for the mc identifying as female as a human?, vague timeline, yes thats the title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboi_deicide/pseuds/yaboi_deicide
Summary: “Are you a Christian?” Jumin asks while you're on the subject of religion. You laugh.
   “Something like that.” You need to tell Jumin something.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The etymology of angel and the role of angels are basically ‘messenger’ and since angels are like supernatural beings...mystic can describe them. So, Mystic messenger is the title because technically, angels are mystic messengers...
> 
> Wanted to post this on Halloween but eh didn't start writing until today so.
> 
> (please ask to tag any trigger warnings if you feel my tags are inappropriate, i have a bad measure of such things)

_“Are you a Christian?” Jumin asks while you're on the subject of religion. You laugh._

_“Something like that.”_

* * *

 

“Jumin, I need to tell you something,” the subject has been weighing on your mind for a while now, slowly dogging you throughout the days. Jumin puts down his book and makes a noise of assent. “I'm…” You pause, the topic is sensitive and while you wouldn’t mind just showing him, easing him into it is by far the better option.

“I’m not human,” you say. “No, you're divine,” he replies without missing a beat. You sigh in aggravation, it’s not surprising he’d take it as a joke but _I’m an angel_ sounds like you're fishing for compliments and _I'm a divine messenger of a higher power_ sounds like something Seven would ask you to say.

“You know what, I’ll just show you instead,” it’s probably a bad idea. It’s definitely a bad idea but you can’t show a _little_ to prove your words without showing _all_. The apartment isn’t an ideal location to well, strip your mortal coil away but there’s not exactly a good location for that. The sea maybe but you’d rather not wait that long and be in such an open area. There’s a decent empty area in front of the bed however, and Jumin moves to sit on the edge.

“I’ll put this away first,” you mutter picking up his book and shelving it. He quirks an eyebrow at you as you take off your heels and move to stand in the middle of the empty space. It’s not as far as you’d like from Jumin but the wall behind you isn’t exactly free of flammable things and you don’t want to burn down the apartment. You finger the straps of your dress, contemplating whether or not to take it off. It might get destroyed anyway and really, it’s not as if you don’t have a dozen more in the closet. He picks up on the movement, leaning back to smile darkly at you.

“Going to show me just how divine you are?” You sigh, the dress will have to stay. Already he’s beginning to misunderstand your actions and if you wait any longer, it’ll escalate until you’ll have to push it back another day. You close your eyes. It’s easy to find, buried almost alarmingly shallow in you. A churning, b **lazIN G ma s s oF**

 **“** _Ye_ ** _s Jumin, we will_ ,”** the power shreds through your voice as you stagger a few steps forward.

Your flesh ripples with each step. The muscles on your back pulsate, the sharp ridges of your wings tearing through skin and cloth alike. Your mortal body shudders and all six of your wings rip apart your back, the spray of blood evaporating in the divine heat as it erupts from the wounds. Flaps of cauterized human skin hang limply from the remains of your back, pain is inconsequential, pain is mortal.

Jumin falls to his knees.

Rows of razor sharp teeth shred through your lips. Blood drips, blood evaporates. Lightning lances through every single nerve in your body, burning away your mortal shell. Arching your back, a burning white light bursts from you. The crunch of your spine snapping diffuses in the vacuum of your existence.  Briefly, the eternity of your life flashes as your eyeballs vaporise and you snap your neck back. Jumin must not look, Jumin must not _see_. Lightning condenses in the empty sockets and your top wings furl to cover them.

“ **Jumin** ,” this is the last strand of humanity you retain, your voices dissonant and stretched like the echoing screams of the desperate and dying. “ **This is who we are, Jumin**.”

The tips of your bottom wings wrap around your feet as you step forward, the ground smoking beneath. There are tears streaming down his face. You can hear each desperate pump of his heart, each choked breath that claws its way out of his constricted throat. If he died by your hands now, he would die happy. Reigning in the monstrous power that emanates from you, the pressure lets up enough that Jumin can breathe. He gasps for air like a dying man, slowly reaching out a hand towards you. You raise a hand to meet his. His hand burns slowly atop of yours, the smell of charred meat unfurls in the air. Your hand easily engulfs his and any skin your claws shred is seared shut immediately. He doesn’t remove his hand.

“ **Enough**.” You are a chorus across time, last words of man before and after weave through your song. Pulling back your hand, you stare down at Jumin. He stands shakily, glazed eyes never leaving the façade of your true face. Jumin leans forwards, through the miasma of heat that you contain before it burns him alive, through the stray feathers of your wings that slice into his face. You watch him through the tips of your incandescent wings. The heat simmers, cools until the blood on his face stops evaporating. Your wings glow softly, the kindest you can manage.

“I-I want…” the words crawl from his hoarse throat. He hasn’t stopped crying as he inches closer to you, hands hovering above the embers of your skin. You do not move. Nothing he does will hurt you, only you may hurt him. Jumin’s eyes flutter close and he presses his lips to the sharp edges of the teeth that bisect your face. His blood drips down your teeth, sizzling as it dribbles onto your chin, trickling into the void of your mouth. Your finger traces a bloody cut down his temple, gently piercing a line behind the blood until you reach his chin. You will heal him later, before he succumbs to infection.

Jumin pulls away, eyes bright and lucid. His mouth is stained crimson, blood smeared brilliantly over his pale skin.

“ **Do you understand?** ” your voice rumbles, the slow movement of ground over a millennia. Jumin’s eyes are wide with awe, the glow of your being tenderly washing over him. He nods, lips stretching into a bloody smile. And then, just like that he faints, the light going out of his eyes. Your claws easily snag his shirt and carefully, you drag him onto the slightly singed bed. With time, Jumin will heal. You step closer to the window that overlooks the city. The afternoon sunlight glints off the burnished white of your wings and you stare pensively at the city before you. Jumin will take time to heal with or without your presence. Until then, his blood still stains your hands. You press a burning hand to the glass.

There are people who need to die.

**Author's Note:**

> The depiction of angels here is taken slightly from the biblical depiction of them but also with creative license. Mostly from the idea of seraphim which burn with the fire of charity so i decided to take it literally. Also, I really like the wrathful avenging angel thing so it’s vaguely implied at the end and throughout. 
> 
> (I mean no harm so like if anything offends you as a christian please dont burn me, this is all in good fun also im catholic so this is really not like meant to be insulting)


End file.
